Steel Hearts
by ellembee
Summary: "Peeta had only seen a handful of guns in real life, and they had always been behind glass cases, dark, cold, and untouchable. They were pretend things, movie props, just as bank robberies were things that only happened in other places to other people." Peeta, Katniss, and a bank robbery. Everlark Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thank you to loving-mellark for the amazing, incredible, gorgeous banner! Also, thanks to loving-mellark, brionybree, and darknessinastateofmind for prereading. And to iamseemaree for being so encouraging :)

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Peeta was met with a blast of cold air as he entered the bank. The walk from Starbucks had taken him less than two minutes, but his undershirt was already plastered to his back with sweat. Delly, shivering behind the counter and lamenting the cardigan she had forgotten on a kitchen chair at home, lit up at the sight of him.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

"Yes, I got your hot chocolate," Peeta said. "And some really strange looks from all the Starbucks employees."

"Doesn't everyone drink hot chocolate in the middle of July?" Madge asked from the other end of the counter. She had remembered her sweater and nylons and was quite comfortable in what Delly had described as the bank's "arctic conditions."

"Thank you, thank you!" Delly looked ready to throw her ice cold arms around him. He handed her the cup, and she took a generous sip. "I can already feel myself beginning to thaw."

"Excuse me." Haymitch stuck his head out his office door. "Don't you people have a job to do?"

Madge, Delly, and Peeta examined the empty bank. It was almost two PM on a Friday afternoon in the middle of a record-breaking heat wave. The rush of customers stopping by on their lunch break had ended, although most had lined up at the drive thru, unable to face the heat of the fifteen second walk from their car to the front door.

"Lunch break's over, Peeta. Look alive." Haymitch disappeared back inside his office and shut the door.

Peeta rolled his eyes. He was head teller at Capitol Savings, not to mention the son of the bank's CEO, although he actually didn't like to mention that. The previous manager, Mr. Crane, had been an unrelenting sycophant, constantly complimenting Peeta's work, offering him the best shifts, and inviting him out for drinks. It drove Peeta crazy. Luckily, Delly and Madge had recognized Peeta's unwillingness in being the boss's favorite. Unfortunately, Darius, another teller, had requested a transfer after Peeta was promoted to head teller four months after starting work at the bank. Peeta's lack of experience was one thing, but the fact that he had never actually applied was something else entirely.

When Mr. Abernathy took over after Mr. Crane's promotion—it still pissed Peeta off that all that sucking up had somehow worked—Peeta worried that Mr. Abernathy would be the same. Well. Peeta soon found out he had nothing to worry about when Mr. Abernathy had called him into his office on his very first day and had explained in rather colorful words what he thought of his predecessor's "management style." (Peeta had to hold back a chuckle at the exaggerated air quotes.)

"Less than six months on the job and a promotion falls into your lap. How convenient. I can't imagine why Seneca thought you were the most deserving applicant." Haymitch had gone on to explain that he had gotten to where he was based on hard work and initiative not his last name or checkbook, and he had no attention of kissing anyone's ass least of all a boy half his age.

Part of Peeta had wanted to defend himself against the insulting tirade, but another part of him felt he deserved it. His last name had gotten him several advantages in life, least of all that damn promotion he would never stop hearing about.

Shortly after Haymitch had dismissed Peeta from his office, Peeta had received the schedule for the following week and found that he was opening. Every. Single. Day. (Two open to close shifts were nestled in the middle as well just in case the six AM arrivals weren't enough.) Peeta had known this was a test to see if he would go "crying to Mommy," as Haymitch had not so delicately put it, but Haymitch had just as much to learn about Peeta. After that first week of hellish hours, Haymitch had returned Peeta to a much more normal schedule, splitting the opening duties equally amongst his employees. Both had gotten along fairly well ever since.

"I've got something else for you too," Peeta said to Delly, holding up a plastic bag emblazoned with the Old Navy logo.

Brow furrowed, she set her cup down and peeked inside the bag. "Is that…?" She pulled out a black cardigan, the tags still attached.

"I wasn't sure what size you are, so I got a couple. I'll return whichever one doesn't fit."

Her eyes widened. "Peeta, thank you!" This time, she hugged him. "You're the sweetest. I'm going to go try them on." Her gaze lingered on his a beat too long before she disappeared into the back.

"Was that wise?" Madge asked quietly.

"What do you mean? She's freezing," Peeta said.

"So you bought her a sweater?"

"A ten dollar sweater from Old Navy. It's just a few stores down from Starbucks."

Madge gave him a pointed look. "You're just encouraging her."

"Encouraging her not to freeze to death?"

"You cannot be this oblivious," Madge said. "Peeta, Delly likes you. A lot. And you buying her hot chocolate and a sweater is sending her mixed signals."

"I'm just trying to be nice."

When Delly had trudged in just before his lunch break, bare-armed and grumpy, he knew he had to do something to salvage the rest of her shift. He hadn't worn a blazer that day, so he had nothing for her to borrow, but he could get her something to keep warm. A hot chocolate wouldn't cut it for the rest of the afternoon.

"Well, don't. We both know you've only got eyes for one girl, even though you refuse to do anything about it."

Peeta returned to his computer, ignoring the blush that heated his cheeks. "There's no girl."

"Whatever you say," Madge sang. "By the way, your 'no girl' is headed inside right now."

A second later the bell over the door jingled as Katniss Everdeen entered the bank. She had been a regular customer for over a year. While she sometimes dropped by during the week, she always showed up on Friday between two and three PM to deposit her paycheck.

She may or may not have been the reason why Peeta always took his lunch no later than one-fifteen.

It was pretty ridiculous, but their three-minute interaction was the highlight of his Friday. Possibly even his whole week. She had the most beautiful smile, one she didn't give up very easily.

It had taken him a couple of months before he had tried to make conversation beyond the usual hi/how are you/have a nice day. He had started with complimenting the green top she wore, and she had revealed it was her favorite color.

The next week Peeta had asked if she had plans that weekend and learned that she loved archery.

Now every time Katniss came in, he asked her one personal question. She had come to anticipate them. They ranged from the mundane (favorite movie, favorite book, favorite TV show) to the strange (if she could only eat one meal for the rest of her life, what would it be?). She always gave him a brief, direct answer followed by the question: "What about you?"

Last week, he had asked her two questions.

The first had been easy and uninspired: favorite local restaurant.

The second had taken all of his courage (and then some): he had asked her on a date to said favorite restaurant.

She had stuttered out an apology, told him she couldn't, and had hurried away without her receipt.

Leaving him feeling like a royal idiot.

He had misread her friendliness for flirtation, and now he had creeped her out. He had feared she would switch banks, or at the very least start coming when he wasn't there. This was why he had been hesitant to ask her in the first place. He knew he'd screw things up.

Maybe if he apologized? Or he could not bring it up at all. Maybe if he acted completely normal, as if last week hadn't occurred, things could go back to the way they were.

Peeta smiled at Katniss as she approached the counter in the middle of the bank lobby, but she averted her eyes to the check she carried. She stopped to fill out a deposit slip before approaching Madge.

Peeta stared. Katniss had always, always come to him. When he was with another customer, she'd linger at the middle counter, rechecking her slips or rooting around in her purse, rather than see another teller.

He had really fucked things up.

Madge cast a cursory glance his way before beginning to type on the computer.

"I'm so sorry," she said to Katniss. "I'm in the middle of something, but Peeta's open."

"Oh. Thanks." Katniss walked over to his open carrel. "Hi, Peeta."

He wished for a customer at the drive thru, a phone call, spontaneous combustion. He wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He should have told Madge he had finally asked Katniss out. Madge had been on his case about it for a while, and he had planned to tell her after Katniss had accepted.

When she had said no, he hadn't exactly felt like sharing the news.

"Afternoon, Katniss." He had called her Miss Everdeen until she had insisted he use her first name. He wondered if he should revert back to that formality.

"Just depositing the one check?" he asked even though he knew the answer.

"Yeah."

He typed in her account number and ran the check through the machine.

"Did you have a good week?" he asked. God, this was painful.

"It was okay."

He nodded. Part of him wanted to stall, ask her a silly question, or if she had plans for the weekend, but why prolong the agony? Maybe if he gave it a couple of weeks, things between them would return to normal.

"Would you like your balance?" he asked.

Before she could respond, the door to the bank burst open. Two men wearing black ski masks stormed inside. Panic tore through Peeta. The lobby was large, but the space shrunk until there was no room for anything but these two men, charging forward, their guns pointed at anyone in their way.

"Out from behind the counter!" one of the men yelled. He was tall and broad-shouldered, strong-looking and loud. "And don't get any ideas about hitting the alarm." He jabbed his gun in Katniss's direction. She put her hands up and sank to the ground.

Before Peeta or Madge could take so much as a step, the same man who had spoken vaulted over the counter and shoved his gun in Peeta's face.

Peeta had only seen a handful of guns in real life, and they had always been behind glass cases, dark, cold, and untouchable. They were pretend things, movie props, just as bank robberies were things that only happened in other places to other people.

Now he felt pain in his skull directly where the gun pointed. When the gun moved, so did the pressure point.

Blindly, he reached out behind him until Madge grabbed his hand. He kept her pushed to his other side as they gave the man as wide a berth as possible.

The second man, slightly shorter and thinner, but no less intimidating, yanked Haymitch out of his office and demanded the vault combination.

Haymitch didn't even appear flustered. He glared at the robber and spit out, "Fuck you."

The man struck Haymitch with the barrel of the gun. Blood seeped out of the cut, but Haymitch stood his ground. It wasn't until Peeta and Madge came around the counter, and the gun was pointed at them that Haymitch put his hands up in surrender.

"I only know half," Haymitch said, which was true. No one person was supposed to know the complete combination.

"Who knows the other half?" the shorter man demanded, his gun still pointed at Peeta and Madge, as the first man grabbed money from the drawers beneath the computers.

"It's locked!" he called out as he struggled to pull open the second drawer. He put his gun down on the counter and grabbed the handle with both hands. Peeta eyed the gun, but fear kept him frozen. There was no way he could move fast enough to grab it. One of the men would stop him, and then where would they be?

"Come on, C, we've been over this." Despite the ski mask, Peeta could read the frustration on the shorter man's face. "Keys. Now," he demanded, staring at Peeta and Madge.

With shaking hands, Peeta threw his keys over the counter. The man called C caught them and said, "Thanks, bro," as if Peeta was a friend who had done him a solid, as if this was a normal, everyday situation.

Peeta's head spun. His body felt light, weightless, as if he wasn't entirely present.

"Who knows the second half?" the shorter man repeated.

Madge raised a trembling hand. Peeta wished it was him, but he knew the same half as Haymitch. There was no point in lying about who knew what. The best plan—the only plan—was to give them their money and let them get on their way.

The shorter man grabbed Haymitch and shoved him toward the door that led behind the counter. He jerked his head toward Madge who scurried toward them. "Go on. Go get my money."

Haymitch swore under his breath as he unlocked the door. C grabbed him as soon as he was through and dragged him into the back where the vault waited. Madge followed quickly behind them.

The other man aimed his gun at Peeta and gestured for him to sit. He sank to the ground beside Katniss. Peeta watched as the robber paced in front of them, periodically checking over his shoulder. Peeta worried another customer would come in, or a passerby would spot what was happening. He knew it would be better to give the men what they wanted and let them leave before the police arrived. The last thing they needed was a hostage situation.

Or a reason to leave no witnesses.

Peeta suddenly remembered Delly who had disappeared into the back moments before the men burst in. He hoped she realized what was happening and stayed hidden. These men didn't need someone else to point a gun at.

Peeta glanced down at Katniss's trembling hands and noticed how high her yellow sundress had ridden up. On any other day, he would have enjoyed the sight of her toned thighs, but right now it made him nervous. He didn't know what these men were capable of, and he didn't want them getting ideas.

"Katniss," he whispered.

She didn't move.

"Katniss, your dress."

When she still didn't respond, he tugged at the hem. She startled and slapped his hand away before realizing what he was trying to do. She shifted and yanked her dress down.

"Thanks," she whispered back.

"Hey, you two. No secrets," the man said. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, looked out the glass window once more, and called out for his partner to hurry.

"It's going to be okay," Peeta mumbled, taking her hand.

"No," she said. "It's not."

The next two events happened almost simultaneously.

First, Madge, Haymitch, and C reappeared.

Second, police sirens sounded in the distance. C let out a slew of curse words.

"Marv, what the fuck? What in the actual fuck?"

"Shut up!" Marv yelled at his partner. He glared at Peeta, his finger hovering over the trigger. "Which one of you hit the alarm? Huh?" He pointed the gun at Madge and Haymitch, but no one said a word. They had all taken the same training classes which emphasized waiting until the robbers had left and the door had been locked before alerting the police. Safety of their employees was a lot more important than stolen money.

(Peeta's mother, CEO of Capitol Savings would claim otherwise, but luckily, she was in the minority.)

Peeta thought of Delly hidden away in the staff kitchen or bathroom. She had access to her cell phone. She could have called them.

Fuck.

"Alright, looks like one of you is coming for a ride," Marv said. His head swiveled as he studied each person before his gaze settled on Katniss. "You. Little Miss Sunshine. Let's go."

"Hey, wait," Peeta said. He threw his arm out, blocking Katniss from standing up. "You can take me."

"Peeta," she whispered. "No."

C stalked over, grabbed Katniss's arm, and yanked her to her feet. She winced from the pain.

"No," Peeta said, standing up too. His voice sounded weak, so he repeated himself, stronger this time. "You can't take her."

"I'm not sure if you've noticed," C said, "but I have the gun. So I get to do whatever the fuck I want."

This time, instead of just pointing the gun at Peeta, he pressed it to Peeta's forehead. The metal was cold, but it felt like fire against his skin. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Haymitch with an arm across Madge. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"You move again, and I will put a bullet in your head. Do you understand?"

"Ye-yes," Peeta stuttered out. His eyes followed Katniss, who was already being swept away by Marv. It hit Peeta, then, that if he let her go, this would be it. He would never see her again. Even if she somehow survived the ordeal, she wouldn't be the same Katniss Everdeen he had been slowly getting to know over the past year.

He couldn't let that happen. They couldn't have her. He wouldn't let them.

And finally, he knew what he had to do.

"My name is Peeta Mellark," he announced. C scoffed and muttered, "Who the fuck cares?" but the other one, the one who was clearly in charge, clearly the mastermind behind this robbery, froze.

"Mellark," he said, sounding out the word. "Like, a relation of Deborah Mellark?"

"Peeta, no," Madge whispered. He barely heard her over the pounding of his heart.

"Like her son," Peeta said. "Take me instead. I'm a hell of a lot more valuable."

"ID, now," the second man ordered as he shoved Katniss into C's arms. She tripped over her flip flops and would have hit the ground if C didn't catch her. "Quickly."

Peeta yanked his wallet out of his pocket and held it up so his license was in clear view. The second man grinned. "Looks like we got two hostages now."

"What? No!" Peeta said. "Leave her behind."

The sirens grew louder as Marv dragged him out the door. Katniss and C were in front of him. A police car pulled up as Katniss was pushed into the backseat of a van. Marv slung an arm around Peeta's chest, spun them around, and fired several shots at the approaching police car. The car swerved sharply to the left, and Peeta knew the officer was hit. He thought he saw a passenger grab the wheel, but then he was in the van, and the door was shut, and his ears were ringing.

The tires of the van squealed as it jerked into the midafternoon traffic.

"Are there handcuffs?" C asked.

Marv rolled his eyes. A new voice from the front seat yelled out, "Why the hell would we have handcuffs?"

"For hostages?"

"Why the fuck do we have two hostages?" the voice demanded. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"Relax," Marv said. "There's a better plan now." He yanked on Peeta's tie. "Take it off."

Peeta tried to undo his tie, but his hands were shaking. Too much was happening at once, and it was as if his brain was suffering from sensory overload. He couldn't concentrate on one other thing, no matter how simple it was.

"Here," Katniss said softly. She inched closer to him. She smelled so good, so impossibly good, like the wind and grass. Like the outdoors. Like freedom. It made him want to scream. She wasn't supposed to be there. Neither of them was.

"Good. Use it as a blindfold," Marv said.

Katniss shot him a horrified look.

"Not on you, Sunshine. On him." Marv jerked the gun in Peeta's direction as if to emphasize his point.

"Sorry," Katniss whispered. She leaned closer and wrapped the tie around his eyes before knotting it at the back of his head. The world went black as her fingertips lingered in his hair, smoothing it down beneath the makeshift blindfold.

"What about Katniss?" C asked.

There was a long pause. Finally, Marv said, "She'll close her eyes like a good girl, or I'll shoot her in the fucking face. How's that?"

Peeta's hand shot out in search of hers. He found it clenched around the seat. Gently, he pried it away and held it in his lap. He rubbed circles across her knuckles, which was as much a comfort to him as he hoped it was for her.

Traffic quieted.

The world was reduced to the sound of the men breathing, to the feeling of Katniss's trembling body.

They switched vehicles, Peeta stumbling blindly. The sharp scent of gasoline filled his nostrils, and he had to hope it was for the van and not for him.

They scrambled into a car, Peeta wedged between Katniss and one of the bank robbers. The car turned on, and Peeta heard the click of the locks.

They drove.

And drove.

And finally, they stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for reading and leaving comments & kudos. A huge thank you to darknessinastateofmind for beta-ing this chapter!

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They didn't remove the blindfold.

The path they walked along was uneven. The toe of Peeta's dress shoe caught on the cracked cement, and he fell forward. Rough hands pulled him back before he could fall. While he was grateful to be spared the pain of a faceplant, he didn't want to be touched by these men.

A smaller, gentler hand cupped his elbow and led him slowly forward. Katniss. Clearly, she no longer had to keep her eyes shut. He hoped she was scoping out the neighborhood and whatever building they were headed toward. Escape was their only option at this point. He knew his mother wouldn't pay the ransom, and even if she did, he'd still end up dead. He could cross his fingers and hope for rescue, but he and Katniss had to work on getting out of here.

Just in case help never came.

They couldn't be in a very populated area. Or, at least, they had to be mostly hidden from view. The sun beating down on the back of Peeta's neck reminded him it was not yet evening. Surely, three masked men leading a blindfolded man down a path in broad daylight would draw attention.

He hadn't kept track of how long they drove. It had been too difficult between the darkness of his blindfold and the panic that threatened to choke him. It wouldn't have helped anyway. These men could have driven them around in circles before arriving here. They could be twenty miles away, or one street over from the bank. There was no way to know for sure.

"Step up," Katniss whispered.

Peeta lifted his foot, nearly falling again as he misjudged the height of the porch.

"One more time."

He stepped inside a building. A house, most likely. The air was thick, stuffy, and stank of stale cigarette smoke.

Katniss hesitated in the doorway, so he did too. But one of them - Marv it sounded like - pushed them forward.

"Keep going, Sunshine."

Peeta's shoes clicked loudly against the hardwood floor. When they finally stopped, the tie was yanked off. The house was dimly lit, for which Peeta was grateful, as he blinked several times to let his eyes readjust.

Katniss stood next to him. Her olive skin looked pale, ghostly. Her lips were pursed together, and her brows were pinched with worry. Their eyes met. Something important and unspoken passed between them. He held out his hand, and she took it.

"Alright, lovebirds, down the stairs," Marv said, pushing the barrel of his gun into Peeta's back.

Katniss took the first step down. Peeta followed. The light switched on a moment later and revealed a small, finished basement. There was an old ripped sofa against one wall, a bed against the other. A coffee table, a flat screen TV, and a pristine-looking pool table took up the rest of the space.

"Welcome to your new home," Marv announced. "Sit your asses on the couch. C, get some rope."

Peeta sat and pulled Katniss down beside him. She tucked herself into his side, her right leg pressed tightly against his left.

No one spoke. Marv stood at the bottom of the steps, gun in one hand, his eyes trained on the pair.

Without moving his head, Peeta surreptitiously glanced around the room. While nothing looked particularly helpful - there was no phone or computer for their rescuing convenience - he did notice one important thing.

There were no windows.

They were so fucked.

The stairs groaned under C's heavy black boots. He handed a bunch of rope to Marv.

"Are we tying her to the bed?" C asked, his voice a little too eager.

Peeta gaped at him, fury burning underneath his skin.

"No, you asshole," Marv said. "Richie Rich is going over there."

C produced a knife and sliced off portions of rope.

"I'll tie her up. You take Money Bags," Marv ordered.

C yanked Peeta off the couch.

"Hands _and_ feet."

"I know!" C snapped.

Peeta stopped in front of the bed. Helplessness crept toward him like a slow-moving storm, but he couldn't give into it. Not yet. If he lay down, then he was surrendering himself to whatever fate awaited him. He couldn't do it.

"Are you deaf? You get the bed!" C said. "Unless you'd prefer your girl over there to switch places...I'd be happy to tie her up."

Peeta spun around and glared at the masked man. "Don't you dare touch her."

"Or what? What the hell are you going to do about it?"

C was much too cocky to expect Peeta to throw a punch, so he was completely unprepared to defend himself. Peeta's fist landed square in his face. C swore and grabbed his nose. Peeta crouched down and launched himself at C's legs. It had been years since he wrestled, so it was a sloppy takedown, but it was enough to knock C to the floor.

Peeta grabbed C's head and slammed it into the ground. He was about to land another punch when Marv spoke.

"I'd stop if I were you."

Peeta looked up and found Marv's forearm wrapped around Katniss's neck. Marv yanked his arm upward, so Katniss had to balance on her toes.

"Lay down on the bed. Right now." Marv didn't have to say Katniss's name or what he planned to do if Peeta didn't comply. The 'or else' was obvious.

Peeta lay back onto the bed. A part of him wanted to keep fighting, to not give in so easily, but what could he do? Was Marv strong enough to snap Katniss's neck? Could he strangle her before Peeta had a chance to pull him off? The thoughts chilled him. If he was the prize, the one that would bring them their windfall, then what was Katniss but an extra witness?

C grabbed Peeta's wrists and slammed them against the metal bars of the headboard before tying them. There was no footboard, so C settled on tying Peeta's ankles together. Peeta picked up his head, straining to see Katniss. She was sitting on the couch, her back to him. He caught a glimpse of Marv running a hand down her leg as he swung her tied up ankles onto the couch.

His instincts demanded action, but he could barely lift his wrists. While he had no problem thrashing around the bed, he resembled a fish on dry land more than an actual threat.

"Katniss," he called.

She turned her head as far as she could. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but the question seemed incredibly stupid.

Of course she wasn't. Neither of them was.

Marv searched through the drawers of the coffee table, removing a pair of scissors and a gun. Then, he and C disappeared back up the stairs. Peeta heard the lock click into place after the door slammed shut. Muffled voices and footsteps moved above them and then away.

Peeta wished they hadn't separated them. He would have preferred being next to Katniss. While he couldn't defend her in his current state, at least he'd be by her side. At least he could try to fight them off.

"Why?" Katniss asked.

He couldn't see her face, but she had asked the question loud enough.

"Why did tell them who you are? Why did you try to stop them?"

Peeta's mouth went dry. He didn't really have an answer for her. "I...I couldn't let them take you."

"You decided my life was worth more than yours," she accused. "It was stupid."

Peeta was rather taken aback at her reaction. He had attempted to save her life, and while, yes, it had backfired spectacularly, he hadn't expected to hear such anger in her voice.

"I tried to save you," he insisted.

"No, you tried to sacrifice yourself for someone you barely know. Why would you do that?"

That stung. Maybe they didn't see each other outside of the bank, but he looked forward to her visits. He thought she enjoyed them too up until last week. They knew each other enough, didn't they?

"They'll kill you, you know," she said. There was no emotion in her voice, just cold certainty. "Money or not, you're dead."

Bile burned a trail up his throat, but he swallowed it back down. His entire body trembled, which was ridiculous because hadn't he already known that was his fate? It was different hearing it aloud though. Different hearing it from her.

"I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I let them take you. I had to try something. I'm sorry we're in-"

"Don't. Please don't." She shook her head. "Don't ever apologize."

"But-"

She turned her head and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "No. This isn't your fault." She jutted her chin toward the staircase. "It's them. Only them. Okay?"

"Alright," he whispered.

They lapsed into silence. Peeta strained to hear any noise coming from upstairs, but there was only the sound of faint footsteps. Occasionally, someone raised their voice, but Peeta couldn't make out the words.

"Do you know where we are?" Peeta asked.

Katniss jumped at the sudden noise. "How would I know?"

"I just meant did you see anything as we walked in? Anything familiar?"

She shook her head. "We're down a long driveway that's surrounded by woods on both sides. I only saw the house."

Peeta didn't know why he felt disappointed. What did knowing where they were matter when there was no way to contact the police or escape the basement?

From his vantage point, he could only see the ceiling, the top of the TV, and if he strained enough, the back of Katniss's head. He was utterly useless in his current position.

With no windows or means of distraction, time moved slowly, like honey dripping off a spoon. It could have been thirty minutes or two hours by the time Marv returned downstairs. He had changed into a black t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, which looked ridiculous with his black ski mask.

"Alright, Sunshine, you're coming upstairs for a chat," he said, stopping in front of Katniss.

"Hey, wait!" Peeta called. "Don't touch her."

Marv pulled out a knife, and Peeta panicked, yanking his wrists against their restraints.

"Cool it, Money Bags, I'm just cutting off the rope."

A few moments later, Katniss popped into Peeta's view. Her hands were still tied behind her back, but her legs were free.

"Let's go," Marv said.

"Wait! Don't take her!" Peeta yelled.

"It's okay," Katniss said. She looked so small next to Marv's tall frame. "Everything's going to be fine."

Peeta slammed his head back into the pillow as soon as he heard the door shut. Useless. He was absolutely useless. He had tried to take her place as a hostage, and instead, he had probably put her in even more danger.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He held his breath and listened. The voices were directly above him this time, but they were still too muffled to make out. A few minutes passed. The waiting was driving Peeta crazy. He kept expecting to hear a gunshot or Katniss scream.

Suddenly, one of the men - he couldn't tell whom - shouted. It sounded like, "Stop." A chair scraped against the hardwood floor, followed by the sound of glass shattering. This time, Peeta could make out the obscenities clearly. He didn't hear any footsteps, so the basement door opening made him jump.

He was prepared to start yelling questions at whichever man appeared, but it was Katniss. A strap of her dress was ripped, which scared the hell out of him, but before he could ask what happened, he realized she was holding a knife. She slipped it between the arm of the couch and the cushion and held a finger up to her lips.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She crept closer to the bed even as footsteps sounded overhead, running toward the basement door.

"What did they do?" Peeta demanded.

"Marv got a little handsy so I threw a glass at his head." She shrugged. "I don't think they saw me take the knife." She looked over her shoulder as C and the other masked man - the driver of the getaway vehicle - appeared at the foot of the stairs.

Katniss leaned close to Peeta's ear, her breath hot against his cheek. "I'm going to get us out of here. I promise," she whispered.

C yanked her backwards and threw her against the couch. The other man - taller than Marv and broader than C - grabbed C's arm.

"Not so rough."

C ripped his arm away. "God, Thorne, you're so fucking soft."

"Are you okay?" Thorne asked Katniss.

She refused to look at him. "Fine. How's your friend's face?"

"Bleeding. I'm probably going to have to stitch him up, so thanks for that."

She shrugged. "Next time, he should ask before he touches me."

She looked up then. Peeta couldn't see her expression, but he heard the venom in her voice. He could have laughed from the relief that flooded through him. He had seriously underestimated her.

It was the dress, he decided. It made her look smaller, softer. He was used to her in jeans, boots, and t-shirts, her hair usually tied back in a braid. He didn't know this tiny slip of a girl, bright and innocent in yellow.

Thorne pointed at her ripped strap. It dragged down her dress, revealing a white bra underneath. "I'll get you a change of clothes."

"What about Peeta? It's too hot down here."

"Fuck that and fuck you," C snapped. "We're not here to take orders. They need to learn the rules."

C stormed over to Peeta and punched him in the gut. All the breath left Peeta's body as he tried to bring his legs up to shield his stomach. He heard Katniss yell for C to stop, but C ignored her. He swung his arm back and hit Peeta in the face.

"Not so tough now, huh?" C demanded.

Peeta turned his head and spit out blood. Despite the pain, he couldn't keep the snarkiness out of his voice. "No, not while I'm completely tied up."

C turned and stared at Katniss, who was currently being held back Thorne. At least this time, an arm was looped around her waist rather than her neck.

"Do we understand now?" C asked. "You act up, and the other faces the consequences."

Of course. They had taken Katniss to keep Peeta in check. He had tried to protect her in the bank, going so far as to sacrifice himself for her. These men knew if they wanted Peeta to cooperate, all they had to do was threaten Katniss.

Apparently, the opposite was true too.

"That's enough," Thorne said.

"What? Marv didn't say we had to return him in one piece."

"Just go back upstairs."

C looked ready to argue, but Thorne held his ground. Finally, C stomped off.

Thorne leaned down toward Katniss. He grasped the side of her face and whispered something in her ear. The man's proximity, his gentle handling of Katniss, made Peeta uncomfortable. At least with C and Marv, their intentions were clear. This guy, this Thorne, was an enigma. Was he playing the good guy in order to trick them into a false sense of security? He had sounded pissed when he found out about Marv and C taking hostages. Was that just surprise, or was it remorse?

Whatever it was, it didn't stop him from tying Katniss's wrists and legs back up and positioning her on the couch.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

"Fuck off," she snapped.

"I'll be back with some clothes," he said softly.

As soon as the lock clicked into place, and they were alone, Katniss swung her legs off the couch and turned to face Peeta.

"Are you okay?" she asked

"Fine," he replied. "Just choking on my own blood."

She frowned. "That's not funny."

"Nothing about this is."

She stared down into her lap. His throat ached at the sight. He wasn't trying to upset her, but he was so just so god damn frustrated.

She pulled her legs back up onto the couch. Her head disappeared from view as she sunk deeper into the cushion.

Time passed even though it didn't seem to move at all.

* * *

The sound of the door opening woke Peeta up. It was quite surprising, as he didn't remember falling asleep. He didn't understand how he could feel comfortable enough to let his guard down. He blamed the adrenaline rush. Once it had left him, his body felt drained.

"Katniss?" he called.

"Still here," she replied.

A moment later, Thorne appeared, carrying a pile of clothes. He untied Katniss and turned around while she changed out of her dress into a pair of baggy shorts and a black tank top.

"I only have shorts for him," Thorne said once Katniss was done.

"A house full of three men, and you only found shorts?" she demanded.

"C'mon, let's just get this over with."

Thorne untied the rope around Peeta's ankles before hesitating.

"What?" Katniss asked. "He's drenched in sweat. He needs to change."

"Marv doesn't want him walking around."

"It'll take two seconds," Katniss said. "Tie me back up first if you want."

"Here." Thorne pushed the shorts into Katniss's hands. "You do it."

"What do you mean I do it?" Katniss's formerly pale skin was now flush with color. She bit her lip and stared down at Peeta's dress pants.

Was she…? Was Thorne really going to make her dress him?

Something passed over Katniss's face. Her expression changed from embarrassed to smug. "Fine," she said. "But his shirt is coming off first."

She could have easily sat beside him and unbuttoned his shirt, but instead she climbed onto the bed and straddled his lap.

"Uh...Katniss?" Peeta said.

She crawled forward. The loose tank top gave him an excellent view of the tops of her breasts. Peeta couldn't help imagine her doing this under very different circumstances.

With one hand balanced on the mattress, she used the other to unbutton his shirt. The further down she went, the drier Peeta's throat got. He tried to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of Katniss's body pressed against his, but not even the idea of Thorne holding a weapon a few feet away could distract him.

Katniss settled on his groin as she undid the last button. He knew she could feel how hard he was, but she said nothing about it.

"You'll have to cut the sleeves off," she said. "If you really don't want to untie him."

Thorne muttered something unintelligible as he sliced the sleeves of Peeta's shirt. The knife nicked his arm, and he winced. Thorne either didn't notice or didn't care. It happened again on the other side, this time drawing a thin line of blood. Finally, Thorne ripped the rest of the shirt off.

Katniss carefully undid Peeta's belt, careful not to let her fingers brush against his erection. She shuffled backward off the bed, pulling his pants along with her. They bunched up at his feet, so she removed his shoes. His pants hit the ground, but she remained angled in front of him, shielding the lower half of his body from Thorne's view.

For a moment, Peeta was in nothing but an undershirt and his boxer briefs. He couldn't move his hands, and he couldn't figure out what the hell Katniss was thinking. Worse yet, Thorne was still standing nearby with a knife. Peeta felt exposed, vulnerable. He closed his eyes and imagined he was somewhere else.

Katniss slid the shorts onto his legs. Peeta wriggled and lifted his ass in order to get them on.

"There," Katniss said. "You made what should have been a simple task into an elaborate ordeal. Thanks."

"Whatever," Thorne muttered. "I'll be back with dinner later."

After tying Peeta's ankles, Thorne tilted his head to indicate the couch. Katniss shook her head.

"No. I'm staying over here."

"Katniss," Thorne warned.

"What difference does it make if I'm here or over there?"

"Don't make me take this out on him."

Katniss held her wrists together and offered them up. "I'm not fighting you. Go ahead."

Peeta braced himself for a punch to the gut or - worse - a knife against his skin, but nothing happened. Thorne stared at Katniss for a long moment before tugging her hands behind her back. He re-tied her arms and feet, leaving her perched on Peeta's bedside.

Then, he returned upstairs.

"What is with that guy?" Peeta asked. "And what the hell is with you?"

"Sorry," Katniss mumbled. "I'm just so angry. I wanted to make him feel as uncomfortable as I did."

Carefully, Katniss twisted her body, lay back onto the bed, and nuzzled up against Peeta's side. Her head rested on his shoulder. She was close enough to kiss him. Close enough to _be_ kissed. His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and he licked his lips.

"I just wanted to make sure they couldn't overhear us," Katniss whispered, her breath warm against his jaw.

Right. Of course. Peeta couldn't let his mind wander to other possibilities, even if Katniss had been pressed against his body only a few moments before. He needed to focus on getting out of here.

"After they bring us dinner, they should force me back on the couch. We'll wait long enough for them to fall asleep, and then I'll cut us free."

"And then what?" Peeta asked.

"We use the window above the bed."

Peeta's head shot up. Even leaning all the way back he couldn't make out a window.

"I saw it on the way in," Katniss said. "It's small. I don't know if you can fit, but I can."

"So you'll go get help?" he asked.

"Absolutely not. I'm not leaving here without you."

"What other choice do we have?"

"I'm not leaving you."

"Katniss…"

"I'm not. I can't risk it. What if I don't get back in time? What if they move you?"

Peeta sighed. He wasn't sure if he could talk her out of this. Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe this was their one shot at escape. "So what are you planning on doing?"

"I'll get back in the house. Unlock the door from the other side."

"Are you insane? They'll have someone watching the door."

"If they're smart, they will. But they might not."

"That Marv guy," Peeta began. "He seems to be in charge. I guarantee he'll have someone on guard."

"Fine. Then, I'll sneak up behind them and I…I'll stab them."

"Stab them," Peeta echoed. "There are so many things wrong with that sentence, I don't know where to start."

"I've hunted before," Katniss said. "When I was younger. My family and I lived mostly off our land. I know how to kill."

"But these are people," Peeta said.

"People who hurt you. People who _will_ kill you."

She stared at him, defiant, certain. She had already made up her mind.

Without warning, she closed the gap between them and kissed him. It was difficult and awkward as neither had use of their hands, but it was exactly what he wanted. What he needed. This was the calmest Peeta had felt since this afternoon.

When she pulled away, he shook his head.

"Now there's no way I'm letting you go."

She quieted his doubt with another kiss.

* * *

Katniss had been right. Marv accompanied Thorne into the basement for dinner and threw a fit when he saw her nestled on the bed with Peeta.

After screaming at Thorne, Marv picked Katniss up and unceremoniously dropped her onto the sofa. Her head slammed against the arm of the couch, but she didn't cry out. Marv stormed over to Peeta.

"No dinner for you since your mother refused to pay the ransom. Guess she wants concrete proof that we have you." He studied Peeta, his eyes nearly black against the ski mask. "Perhaps we'll have to show her what happens when she makes us wait."

Marv leaned down and pressed a knife against Peeta's throat. "If she doesn't cooperate, I'll send you back in pieces."

Peeta hissed as Marv applied just enough pressure to cut his skin.

"Goodnight, sleep tight." Marv gave him a wicked smile before disappearing back up the stairs.

"I'm not hungry anymore," Katniss said.

"Let me feed you," Thorne replied.

"Just leave us alone." She turned away from him and curled into herself the best she could in her current position.

Thorne stared down at her for a long moment before finally giving up. He turned off the light on his way out, casting the pair into darkness.

* * *

A while later, Katniss decided they had waited long enough. Peeta could barely make her out in the dark, but he saw her outline struggling against the rope on the couch. Finally, she stood and took a bow, as if she had just performed a magic trick. Her hands were now in front of her. She retrieved the knife next. The process was painstakingly slow, but she eventually managed to free her hands completely without slicing her wrists. She cut through the rope on her legs next.

Then, it was Peeta's turn.

Once he was free, he stood on the bed and reached for the window. Between the dark and the curtain, it was hard to find the latch. Finally, he heard the click and pushed the window out. The air was cool and refreshing. Intoxicating. Peeta couldn't believe how good it felt against his face.

"It's really small," Peeta said.

"I can do it."

"Are you sure? Absolutely sure this is the only way?"

"I'm getting us out of here."

His wrists burned from the rope rubbing against them, and his jaw throbbed from C's earlier attack, but it all faded away when Katniss kissed him. She began to pull away, but he crushed her body against his, his hand against the warm skin of her back.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, worried about taking too much time.

"Hey, Katniss?"

"Hmm?"

"If you could listen to only one band for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

At first there was only silence. Peeta couldn't make out her expression in the dark. Then, she snorted and buried her face into his chest to muffle her laughter.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered into his ear when she had calmed down. She sounded close to tears. "You didn't deserve this."

"Neither did you."

She turned around. "Okay, I'm ready. Give me a boost."

Peeta had just placed his hands at her waist when the door to the basement door opened.

"Shit! You have to go. Now!"

"No!" She struggled out of his arms, but he caught her before she could jump off the bed.

"You still have a chance. Come on," he whispered, desperate.

"I'm not leaving you. We're in this together."

She stepped off the bed and pulled him down with her. The light didn't click on, but heavy footsteps sounded down the stairs.

Above their heads, the curtain rustled in the breeze.

Katniss took Peeta's hand, the knife clenched in the other.

The footsteps reached the bottom.

"Together," Katniss whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I've really enjoyed the different theories you all have. A huge thank you to darknessinastateofmind for beta-ing this chapter!

* * *

A beam of light cut through the dark, landing first on the couch, then the bed, before finding Katniss and Peeta.

The light was blinding. Using his hand to shield his eyes, Peeta tried to make out the person holding the flashlight.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Thorne. Something like relief flooded through Peeta. Thorne was a better option than the other two.

"We're leaving," Katniss said. "Are you going to help us or not?"

Peeta was surprised at her question. While he hadn't made up his mind about Thorne, Katniss apparently believed he was some sort of bleeding heart. He had been gentle and careful with her. Maybe he would help them.

Thorne lowered the beam so it lit up their waists, their bare feet, the knife clenched in Katniss's hand.

Peeta blinked rapidly and waited for his eyes to readjust to the dark.

"I want to. I really want to. But I can't," Thorne said.

"If we stay, they'll kill him," Katniss said.

"You don't know that," Thorne said. "Marv said he doesn't want to hurt anyone—"

"And you believe him?" Peeta cut in.

"I have to." Thorne's voice turned quiet, desperate.

"Just let us leave," Katniss said.

"If I let you go, he'll lead the cops back to us. I'll go to jail. My family—" Thorne stopped, shook his head.

It was strange to think of Thorne as a real person underneath that mask. Someone with a mother, a father. Someone who was once a child with hopes and dreams, but through one disappointment or another had ended up here.

"That's not our fault," she snapped. "If you're not going to help us, why are you down here?"

"I saw you grab the knife." He held out his hand. "I didn't want to take it back while the others were around. I don't need them freaking out."

"Get out of our way," Katniss demanded.

"Or what?"

Peeta couldn't make out Thorne's expression in the dark, but he heard the change in his voice. It was sharper, less pleading and more dangerous.

Katniss held up the knife. "Or we'll go through you."

"You're not going to use that," Thorne said. "Not on me."

There was something in his words, in Thorne's tone, that unsettled Peeta. But he didn't have time to analyze it because Katniss let go of his hand and took a step forward.

"I won't let them hurt him," she said.

Thorne's arm moved behind his back, and Peeta realized a second before Katniss did that he was reaching for his gun. Without thinking, Peeta launched himself at Thorne, knocking him to the ground. The gun and flashlight landed with twin thuds, skidding to a stop somewhere in the dark.

Peeta was strong, but Thorne was stronger. He threw Peeta off him. Peeta gasped as his back slammed into the coffee table, knocking the breath out of his body. Thorne was on him in an instant, throwing wild punches that Peeta tried to block. Peeta twisted away from him, and Thorne swore as his fist connected with the table.

Peeta knocked Thorne's leg out from under him, but he made it only two steps before Thorne grabbed his ankle and tugged him down. Thorne crawled on top of him. Holding up his hands to block his face, Peeta braced himself for another assault, when Katniss's voice cut through the dark.

"Get off of him."

She picked up the flashlight, illuminating her hand and the gun she held.

She dug the gun into Thorne's back. He stood, hands in the air.

"Go sit on the bed," Katniss ordered.

"If you shoot me, you'll wake them," Thorne warned.

"Good," Katniss said. "Then, I'll shoot them too."

Peeta scrambled to his feet as Thorne walked over to the bed.

"Stay right there," Katniss warned. "Come on, Peeta. We're leaving."

Peeta wanted to tie Thorne up, gag him, less as an act of revenge and more as a way to buy them some time. But the rope was nothing more than a pile of frayed ends and little pieces.

Katniss kept the flashlight trained on Thorne as she and Peeta backed up toward the stairs. Peeta went up first. Katniss followed soundlessly behind him.

As soon as they reached the top, Katniss clicked off the flashlight, shut the door as quickly and quietly as she could, and twisted the lock into place. They tiptoed down the dark hallway, past the closed doors that no doubt contained the other two men.

As they stepped into the living room, they heard a pounding on the floor coming from the basement followed by Thorne yelling. They dove out the front door, no longer caring about how much noise they were making.

Katniss led them straight into the woods despite both of them being barefoot. The flashlight remained off. They stepped as carefully as they could, but they both winced as their feet found rocks or sharp branches.

They had been moving for less than a minute when Peeta realized he couldn't stop thinking about Katniss's shorts.

It hit him then, why Thorne's words had bothered him so much. They had been so certain, so familiar. He had known Katniss wouldn't shoot.

Not him. Not someone she cared about.

Peeta's stomach twisted with nausea, and he stopped, certain he was about to be sick. His head burned, but his hands felt ice cold.

"We have to keep going," Katniss said, looking over her shoulder. "They'll be awake by now."

"Your shorts," Peeta said. "A house full of three men, and you get shorts that fit you almost perfectly."

"What?"

"Thorne said you wouldn't use the knife. Not on him."

Katniss looked up at him, but she said nothing. He couldn't make out her expression in the dark.

"You know him," Peeta accused. "You know all of them."

"Peeta—"

"Give me the gun."

"What?"

"Give me the gun, or I'll take it from you," Peeta warned. His head felt light, fuzzy. Betrayal was a noose, cutting off the oxygen to his brain.

"Peeta, please, we have to keep moving."

He held out his hand. She didn't hesitate before giving him the gun and flashlight. It made him doubt himself, but only for a moment. Everything that had happened since they left the bank clicked together. It was clear now just how stupid he had been.

"What is this?" he demanded. "Where are you really taking me?"

"I'm getting you out of here. Peeta, please, I—"

"No." He took a step backward. "I don't understand. What was the point of this—this plan? What was the point of pretending you cared about me?"

She opened her mouth, but he spoke again before she could. "Tell me the truth."

"Yes," she said. "I know them."

"You—you…" He had known the truth, but he hadn't felt it until she said it out loud. Dread overwhelmed him in waves, and he couldn't breathe.

"This was never supposed to happen. I didn't know who you were. None of us did. I was only there in case they needed a hostage. You were never supposed to be taken too."

He was such a fool. He thought he had been brave, trying to save the girl he was falling in love with. But he was pathetic.

"Please let me get you out of here. You can turn me in at the police station. I don't care anymore, but we have to leave. Now."

"No," Peeta said. "You stay here. I don't want you near me."

He took another few steps backward, but she reached out, whispered, "Wait."

He pointed the gun at her head, and something vital cracked inside him, something he would never recover from.

He thought he saw her flinch before she said, "We're in Twelve Oakes. Do you know where that is?"

He nodded, unable to speak. Twelve Oakes was the part of town you avoided. He had never been there himself.

"No one is going to help you here. You need to get to the next neighborhood. Victors Village is three miles from here. Flag down a car, or knock on someone's door once you get there. Just run. Please."

She held up her hands and walked around him, giving a wide berth. "I'll go back to the house. Now go!"

Maybe he was headed toward a trap. Another set of masked men to whisk him away to a new location. But that didn't make sense. Why go through the trouble of escaping from Thorne? They could have just as easily moved Peeta themselves.

And Katniss had seemed so distraught when he figured her out. She had given up the gun without a fight, told him exactly where he was and where he needed to go.

He waited until Katniss had completely disappeared from view before he began moving forward. He didn't run – he couldn't without risking a serious injury. Besides, he was quieter when he walked.

Less than a minute later, he heard Marv yell his name. It was faint, but clear enough to make him freeze.

"Get back here now, or she's dead!"

It was a trick. They wouldn't kill her. She was one of them. She had helped manipulate him, control him, and then she had - what? Fought off Thorne to set him free?

What exactly had happened in the basement? What had she been trying to do?

Peeta knew he had to keep moving forward. He didn't owe Katniss anything. He had tried to save her life, and ended up nearly losing his own. But somehow, he found himself backtracking as quietly as he could. He stopped behind a tree as soon as the driveway came into sight. It was an obstructed view, but he could see Katniss standing in the middle of the driveway, her hands up, as Marv pointed a gun at the back of her head.

They were lit up as if in a spotlight by a flashlight C held.

This wasn't real, Peeta reminded himself. None of this was real except the bruises and cuts on his body and the promise that they would kill him before this was all over.

Katniss was safe. This was a bluff.

It was.

It had to be.

"You really going to let your girlfriend die?" Marv yelled. "Fucking coward."

"Peeta, run!" As soon as the words left her mouth, Marv slammed the barrel of the gun into Katniss's skull. She landed on her hands and knees with a gasp. Peeta winced. He watched her sit back on her haunches and hold her head.

Marv grabbed her hair and yanked her to her feet. "I'm going to count to 3, then I'm going to shoot her, and find you anyway."

He waited a beat before beginning the countdown. "3...2…"

Peeta didn't think. He just ran toward them.

"1…" Katniss swung her elbow back into Marv's gut. She spun around, kicked him in the groin, and ran toward the woods.

Peeta stopped where he was. Katniss was almost to the cover of the trees when C tackled her to the ground. She twisted underneath him and tried to hit him, but he wrapped his hands around her neck.

"I'm so sick of your shit," he snarled.

Her arms flailed, scratched at his face, but he squeezed and squeezed until Peeta tore out of the woods and knocked him off her.

Katniss turned onto her side, coughing and trying to suck in air. Peeta kicked C in the stomach, in the face, any part of him that was unprotected until finally Marv snapped, "Enough!"

Peeta looked up.

"Drop your gun," Marv ordered, pointing his own at Peeta.

"I'll shoot him," Peeta warned.

"You think I give a fuck?" Marv asked. "The incompetence level I'm working with is ridiculous." He sighed and shook his head. "C get off your ass and grab his gun."

C had just gotten to his feet when Peeta pointed his weapon up into the air and fired twice. Then, he was pinned to the ground as C wrestled the gun out of his hand.

"Back inside. Now," Marv ordered.

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later, the window was closed and boarded up. Katniss was back on the couch, arms and legs bound. Marv had shoved Peeta onto the bed and forced him into an upright position before tying his wrists behind the metal headboard. While the strain on Peeta's arms was much less, and he had a clear view of the basement, he also now had a metal bar digging into his head and back.

Marv and Thorne returned upstairs to argue privately in the kitchen while C guarded the locked basement door.

"Why did you come back?" Katniss asked, her voice raspy. Her neck was red, bruised, and pieces of her hair were covered in dried blood. "Why didn't you run?"

Peeta said nothing. He just stared at the ceiling.

"You can't let them know that you know who I am," she said. "They'll kill you for sure."

"Thought I was dead anyway," Peeta said. His throat ached, his head ached, his entire body ached. Everything hurt, inside and out.

"I didn't want this," she said. "I didn't want any of this."

"Then, why?" he asked. "Why are you here?"

"My sister," Katniss said so softly Peeta almost didn't hear her. "I'd never met Marvel and Cato before today."

"And Thorne?"

"That's Gale Hawthorne. He is – was – my best friend."

"I don't get it. How does this involve Prim?"

Katniss's head shot up. "You remember her name?" she asked.

"I remember everything about you," Peeta said. The remainder of Peeta's energy disappeared at his confession. He couldn't bring himself to lie about how much he had cared for her. Maybe it made him look foolish and pathetic, but he hoped it made her feel worse.

He couldn't see her face, but he could hear the tears in her voice. "Prim is dating Gale's brother, Rory. Rory fell into Marvel's crowd. He wanted to make some quick cash. They were going to use Prim at the bank. Plant her there just in case they needed a hostage. When I found out, I volunteered to take her place."

A heavy silence fell over the room as Peeta took in her confession.

He felt himself soften, just a little bit, towards her, so he made his voice hard. "So...what? I'm supposed to fall for this sob story?"

"No, I'm just trying to tell you the truth. You were never supposed to be taken too. No one was ever supposed to get hurt."

"Are those your shorts?" he asked.

"No. They probably belong to Cato's girlfriend."

"You wore that yellow dress on purpose."

"Yes. They wanted me to look as sweet and innocent as possible."

Peeta mentally reviewed everything else that had happened. "Did you really throw a glass at Marv's head?"

"Yes. He had the idea to cut the strap of my dress to make you really worried. They knew if they threatened me, it'd be easier to control you. I didn't want him to touch me, so I...reacted."

Peeta couldn't help a smile at the image. He wondered what the cut looked like beneath Marv's mask. He hoped it would leave a scar.

"You kissed me to make me trust you?" Peeta asked.

"No, I kissed you because I wanted to."

"Bullshit," Peeta snapped.

"When you asked me out last week, I wanted to say yes. But I couldn't. I already knew what they were planning, what I would have to do. I couldn't protect Prim and have you."

Her words warmed him, but he refused to give in so easily. He still didn't know what was real and what was made up.

He thought of her standing in the driveway, Marv's gun pointed at the back of her head. He thought of Cato trying to strangle the life out of her.

He thought of her telling him to run.

It was possible this was all still a game, one he couldn't win because he only now was just learning the rules.

But maybe she really did care about him. Maybe all she had wanted was to save her sister, until he had tried to be a hero.

"You're still trying to protect me?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "I won't let them hurt you. I won't."

Maybe it was because he so desperately wanted to believe her that he decided he did.

* * *

Less than five minutes later, Marv and Thorne - Marvel and Gale, Peeta reminded himself - slammed their way into the basement. Marvel didn't say a word before marching straight to the bed and punching Peeta in the face.

Katniss jerked upright and yelled for him to stop as he landed another punch. Peeta's head slammed into the metal bars of the bed, and his vision went black.

Marvel hit Peeta over and over, until his knuckles were slick with Peeta's blood. After the assault was finished and Peeta's vision cleared, he looked over at Katniss. She clung to Gale, her face buried in his neck, his hand cradling the back of her head.

"Shit," Marvel said, shaking his hand. "Should have had C do that. He's much better at this brute force stuff. I prefer knives." Marvel offered a devilish smile. "Okay, that's step one. What do you say we send dear ol' Mom a finger as step two?"

Peeta expected an outburst from Katniss, tears and yelling and threats of violence. But she didn't say a word. Peeta doubted she had even heard what Marvel had said. Gale had pushed up the bottom half of his ski mask, and Katniss had her lips pressed against his.

If Peeta had any energy remaining, if he hadn't been in so much pain, he might have yelled and thrashed his legs. This betrayal stung worse than the first because he had chosen it. He had had a chance to run, but he had returned for her. He had wanted to protect her.

Obviously, she didn't need protecting.

Gale pulled away from Katniss and caught Marvel's arm. "Maybe that's enough for tonight," he said.

Marvel ripped his arm away and stared Gale down. "I'll decide when he's had enough."

"Let's just take his picture and be done with it. This might be enough to get the money."

"Did you hear his mother? That cheap bitch doesn't want to pay up. We need to show her how serious we are."

Before another word could be said, the door of the basement burst open, and Cato stuck his head in to yell one word: "Cops!"

"Get your ass down here and keep them quiet. I'll handle this," Marvel said.

Cato raced over to Peeta and held a knife to his throat. "Don't. Say. A. Fucking. Word."

A moment later, Peeta heard banging coming from upstairs, most likely the front door. He held his breath and wondered if he should yell for help. What were the chances Cato would slit his throat? Technically, they needed him alive, at least for now, but if he exposed them while the police were here, they wouldn't need him at all.

And Katniss. She was safe over there with her boyfriend. She had never, not once, been in any danger. The knowledge was a boulder pressing on Peeta's chest. He still couldn't believe how stupid he had been.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had been anticipating her weekly visit to the bank.

He tried to remember her as he used to see her: shy, stoic, flirtatious.

Beautiful.

He saw her now for what she really was: manipulative, deadly.

A liar.

Minutes passed. Finally, Marvel returned to the basement. He looked cool, unruffled as he walked to the center of the room.

"Someone reported gunshots," he announced. "I told the cops I heard them too, but I didn't know where they came from. They're gone."

Cato pulled the knife away and headed toward the stairs.

"Wait," Gale said, reaching out for the knife. Cato rolled his eyes but handed it over.

Gale cut off the rope around Katniss's ankles and gently pulled her into a standing position.

"Taking her for a test drive?" Marvel asked.

"Shut the fuck up," Gale snapped. "I think we all just need some sleep."

Marvel was halfway up the stairs with Gale and Katniss on his heels when he stopped.

"Wait. No yelling? No threats?" Marvel stared down at Peeta and then looked over his shoulder at Katniss. "We need to have a conversation," he said, his voice low, threatening.

He yanked Katniss up the last few steps. The door slammed shut behind them.

Peeta tried to convince himself that he didn't care what Marvel did to Katniss.

Despite everything though, he did.

* * *

Peeta must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew Katniss was back in the basement, reaching under the pool table. She produced the knife she had stolen earlier.

"Here to finish me off?" he asked.

"I'm here to get you out of here," she said. "I snuck out of Gale's room. No one's guarding the door."

"Sure," Peeta said. "Is your boyfriend going to beat the shit out of me next?"

"He's not my boyfriend," she whispered.

"That's not how it looked from over here."

"I needed a way to get free. He was my best option."

Peeta didn't believe her. He couldn't.

Before he could say another word, footsteps overhead sent her running toward the pool table. She hid beneath it.

Suddenly, Gale's face appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked down at Peeta, saw that he was alone, and disappeared.

A few moments later, Cato came stomping down the stairs, stifling a yawn. He was shirtless, dressed only in a pair of athletic shorts. He didn't wear a mask.

So they knew that Peeta knew who they were, who Katniss was. She had confessed everything, sentencing him to death.

"I'm so fucking sick of your girlfriend's shit," Cato yelled upstairs. "Please, let me search the basement instead of getting some damn sleep."

As he passed by the pool table, Katniss swung the knife out and cut the back of his leg. Cato fell to the ground with a wail.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! You stupid bitch!" he howled.

Peeta hoped Katniss had severed his Achilles tendon. It would render him absolutely useless.

She rolled out from underneath the pool table, coming out of the side opposite Cato. She rushed over to the bed and cut Peeta free.

"Time to go," she said.

"I don't understand," Peeta said as his arms came free. "What are you doing?"

"I'm getting you out of here."

While he didn't understand her or her motivation, he did know that she had severely wounded Cato, and ally or not, it was time to get the hell out of there.

Cato was curled in a ball on the floor, mumbling barely coherent swear words as he held the back of his leg. They ran past him for the stairs.

They reached the kitchen before Gale appeared in the doorway of the living room. He pointed the gun at Peeta. Katniss immediately stepped between them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Gale demanded.

"I told you. I'm not going to let you hurt him."

"Look, I don't want to hurt him any more than you do, but he knows who we are."

"And that means he has to die? Are you insane?" Katniss said. "He doesn't deserve this."

"Of course he does," Gale snapped. "You know how much we got from the bank? Eighty grand. How far will that get us? Huh? Do you have any idea how much his family is worth?"

"So he deserves to die because he's rich?" Katniss asked. "What the hell is wrong with you? This isn't you. This isn't my best friend talking."

Gale shook his head. "If he goes free, you'll end up in jail too. What about Prim?"

Katniss didn't wince. She stared straight ahead.

"They'll put her in foster care," Gale said. "You think she'll come out of the system the way she is now? You don't think that'll fuck her up?"

"I'll have to live what that. With the choices I made. I just wanted to protect her."

Gale rubbed his forehead and let out a strangled laugh. "Are you seriously that naïve? You really think they were going to use Prim?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Katniss demanded.

"Rory doesn't even know these guys. I lied so you'd say yes. So you'd take the money."

Katniss was shaking now. She walked toward Gale, the knife at her side, still slick with Cato's blood.

"You lied?" she asked.

"I saw the warning notice. I know you're getting evicted again."

"And you thought this was the solution?" She slapped him across the face. "I told you I didn't want the money."

"I was going to convince you. It was going to be you and me, against the world, like always."

Marvel's voice traveled from somewhere behind Katniss. "Are we done yet? I'm getting pretty tired of listening to your lovers' spat."

Katniss turned and found Marvel pointing his gun at Peeta.

"We are _not_ lovers," Katniss snapped. "We're not even friends."

"Like I give a fuck. Gale, would you take her, please?"

Katniss spun around the same time that Gale went to grab her. She swung the knife, slicing empty air. He grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she was forced to drop her weapon.

"Do me a favor, Gale, and snap her neck?" Marvel asked.

"What?" Gale looked appalled, even as he restrained her. "I'm not going to do that."

"Fine. I'll just shoot her."

Gale pulled Katniss close to his chest and spun around just as the gun went off. His knees buckled, and they both hit the ground.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Marvel yelled.

Katniss knelt beside Gale and shook his shoulder, but he was unresponsive. A pool of blood seeped out along his side. She looked up, tears in her eyes, as Marvel took aim once more. Peeta slammed into his side, and the bullet lodged itself in the wall near Katniss's head.

Marvel dropped the gun once he hit the floor. Peeta landed on top of him, but in his weakened state, it was all too easy for Marvel to kick him off. Peeta scrambled to his feet and kicked the gun away from Marvel's outstretched hand. Marvel grabbed Peeta's ankle and tugged him back to the ground.

Sirens sounded outside. They both looked toward the windows. Far away, the red and blue lights of a cop car appeared.

"Fuck," Marvel yelled. "Fuck!"

Marvel half crawled half ran toward the gun. Peeta had just gotten back on his feet when Marvel swung around, the gun aimed at Peeta's head.

"It's over," Peeta said, his hands in the air. "The police are here."

"It's over when I say it's over."

The sirens grew louder as the car approached, bathing the kitchen in red and blue light.

Katniss screamed, but Peeta was too focused on the gun to look her way.

Marvel fired.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is the last chapter. Thanks for coming on this little adventure with me. Thanks to darknessinastateofmind for betaing this chapter. Come find me on tumblr: andthisisthewonder

* * *

Pain streaked through the back of Peeta's skull. He stared up at the ceiling of the kitchen, his vision red and muddied. He heard the heavy tread of boots approaching, but he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

Marvel appeared in his line of sight, towering over him. For a moment, worry replaced Marvel's usual cocky expression as red and blue lights danced across his face. Then his usual sneer returned.

"I'm sick of this self-sacrificing bullshit." He disappeared again, crossing the room to look out the window.

Peeta slowly sat up, rubbing his head. He spotted Katniss lying on the ground, her hand clamped over her shoulder, blood seeping through her fingers.

He remembered her scream just before Marvel pulled the trigger, the force of her body sending him to the floor.

She had pushed him out of the way.

She had saved him.

"Katniss?" He crawled over to her side. When he touched her arm, her eyelids fluttered.

"Hey," he said. "You're okay. Everything's going to be okay."

She shook her head.

"We don't have time for this!" Marvel snapped, letting the curtain fall back into place. He yanked Peeta to his feet.

"Don't!" Katniss cried. She tried to trip Marvel, but he easily sidestepped her legs. He kicked her in the stomach, and she curled into a protective ball.

Peeta slammed his back into Marvel's chest, sending both of them careening into the kitchen table. Marvel dropped the gun, but stayed on his feet. Peeta dove for the gun, but Marvel was too fast. He kicked it off to the side before grabbing the back of Peeta's shirt and wrenching him upright.

Seconds later, Marvel had a knife at Peeta's throat. He dragged the blade down the side of Peeta's neck with just enough pressure to draw blood.

Peeta's entire body ached, but this was a different kind of pain. It was sharp and precise, and it inspired a whole new level of fear.

"How does that feel?" Marvel asked before pushing Peeta forward. By the time Peeta had regained his footing and turned around, Marvel had the gun.

"Walk back over to me." He pointed the gun at Katniss, who was still curled into a ball. "Unless you want a bullet in her head?"

Peeta complied.

"You and me are going for a ride," Marvel said, spinning Peeta around. Marvel slipped his left arm across Peeta's chest. His right pressed the gun against Peeta's head. He had a few inches on Peeta, but he slouched down, keeping his head hidden as they stepped out onto the driveway.

Two police officers were just getting out of the car, their guns raised, when Marvel shouted, "Take another step and he's dead."

Peeta breathed heavily, trying to think his way out of this situation. He couldn't allow himself to be shoved into another car. It would almost certainly mean his death. And Katniss. She would die too. If Marvel managed to get behind the wheel, the cops would pursue them, and who knew how long it would take for backup to arrive.

They'd both be dead, names in a headline on the next day's newscast.

Peeta tilted his head forward before slamming it backwards. Marvel swore, but he didn't let go. He wiped his nose on the back of Peeta's neck, leaving a streak of blood behind, and dug the barrel of the gun into Peeta's temple.

"You're not getting away now you son-of-a-bitch," Marvel whispered. "It's just you and me."

"Drop your weapon!" one of the officers shouted. Peeta couldn't make out which one with the flashing lights blinding him.

"Fuck you!" Marvel yelled back. He dragged Peeta over to the sedan in the driveway.

"Open it," he snapped.

As soon as Peeta opened the door, he was shoved inside. Marvel fired several shots in the direction of the police before getting in himself, forcing Peeta to climb into the passenger seat. Marvel started the car, locked the doors, and slammed on the gas.

Marvel swerved around the cop car, clipping the officer on the left with the side mirror. He sped up the driveway, past the woods that Peeta had been in only a couple of hours before, and skidded onto the street.

Peeta pulled his seatbelt on.

The sirens screamed as the police car raced after them. Marvel sped up. The road became narrower, more circuitous, but Marvel knew these streets. He skidded around corners with the faintest pressure on the brakes.

Peeta knew his usefulness was wearing thin. Marvel needed him for now to prevent the cops from trying anything too risky, but if Marvel succeeded in losing them, he was dead.

He hoped backup was on its way along with an ambulance. He tried to picture Katniss as he last saw her, tried to remember if she had been conscious.

How serious was a gunshot wound to the shoulder? How long before she bled out?

How long before Marvel shot him and dumped him by the side of the road?

As they approached another hairpin turn, Peeta realized he had to do something. He had to stop this. Without thinking of the consequences, he reached over and jerked the wheel to the right. The car did a 180 before flipping over and skidding across the asphalt.

Peeta's body jerked forward, but the seatbelt snapped tight, holding him in place. He slammed his head against the window, and his senses overloaded with pain.

The scene fractured, pieces scattering like an overturned jigsaw puzzle. There was the screech of metal, the crunch of glass, the sound of someone screaming.

Something wet and sticky trickled down his forehead, clung to his eyelashes, sealed his eyes shut.

And then everything went dark.

* * *

Peeta jerked awake. Despite the hum of the air conditioning unit, he was drenched in sweat. Part of him wanted to switch off the AC and open the window, but he had given up that long held habit.

All of his windows were shut, locked. A security system had been installed. New deadbolts secured his front and back door. He almost twisted the lock of his bedroom door before attempting sleep, but he thought better of it. As it was, he was one step away from paranoia taking over his entire life.

He had been home for three days but had probably only slept a combined total of ten hours.

He sat up in bed, buried his face in his hands, and waited for his breathing to return to normal.

Another nightmare. There was no escaping them. Nothing worked. Not sleeping pills, not soothing music or the sound of the television, not even sleeping with the lights on. The nightmares always sunk its claws into him, and he worried that this was his life now: fear and sleeplessness and worry.

He checked the cable box underneath his television and saw that it was quarter after five. At least he could start the day now. Maybe he'd catch a nap later in the afternoon.

It's not like he had anything else to do.

Or anywhere to be.

He had all the time in the world, plenty of money, and no desire to leave his house.

* * *

Shortly after nine AM, Peeta was halfway through his third batch of cookies, when the phone rang. It was Haymitch calling under the guise of an ATM malfunction. Peeta walked him through the steps of reloading it with cash.

Peeta knew Haymitch was full of shit, but the conversation was soothing. It was nice focusing on a task. It gave his overworked mind a break from worrying about everything else. Baking recipes he knew by heart could only distract him so much.

"Everything alright with you?" Haymitch asked.

He briefly wondered if Haymitch really wanted to know, or if he actually wanted to tell him. He knew there were people out there willing to listen to him, but he wasn't sure he knew what to say yet. So instead of any kind of truth, he said, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay. Good. Delly wanted me to ask."

Right. Delly. Madge. His co-workers and friends. They had left half a dozen voicemails on his cell phone, sent several texts, but he had kept his responses brief, assuring them he was okay but was not currently in the mood for visitors.

He wasn't sure how to explain that he wasn't ready to let the world back in.

"I owe her a phone call," Peeta said.

"Yeah. Madge too." Haymitch cleared his throat. "Look, I know your mother agreed to a week of paid time off, but you take as much time as you need, okay? Your job is here waiting for you whenever you're ready."

The sincerity in Haymitch's voice was surprising. Peeta appreciated the gesture, but he wasn't ready yet to reveal he had no intention of returning to the bank. Part of it was fear, but it was also his desire to carve out his own path rather than the one his mother had laid out for him. He felt little loyalty toward her, especially after her lack of empathy when she visited him the day after he was released from the hospital.

Maybe he'd go to culinary school or pursue his M.B.A. and open his own bakery. Maybe he'd get his master's in education and teach art to elementary school students.

Maybe he'd do nothing but sit back and live off his trust fund. It seemed to work for his brothers.

"Thanks, Haymitch."

"Listen, someone called the bank asking after you. She left her number."

"Another reporter?" Peeta asked.

Everyone wanted an interview with the selfless bank teller who had tried to save a young, pretty customer. They had splashed their pictures across the news, but he hadn't commented. Let them draw their own conclusions. Let them make up their own story.

"No, actually. Someone named Primrose Everdeen?"

* * *

The sun was too bright. The sky was too blue. The entire world was _too much_. But he had to leave the house eventually, right? And the hospital was a safe place to visit.

Peeta's knuckles were white against the steering wheel. He knew, objectively, that he was not in danger. The bad guys were dead or behind bars. They couldn't reach him.

But that didn't stop him from checking the rearview mirror for a blue sedan or hitting the door locks for the third time.

Peeta had never had a panic attack in his life, not until the night he came home from the hospital. Alone, with the sun setting, and the quiet creeping in, he had sunk to the floor of his bedroom, unable to catch his breath. His worry became a living thing squirming inside him. It wasn't just that he felt unsafe, but he _knew_ he wasn't. It was as certain as his last name.

Peeta pulled into the hospital parking lot. He strolled up to the information desk and smiled at the young redhead sitting behind it.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up Katniss Everdeen. She's being released today."

"Your name?"

"Peeta."

It was obvious the woman knew who he was when she didn't prompt him for his last name. He had just been there himself a few days prior. She made a phone call and a few minutes later, a nurse escorted Katniss out of the elevator.

She looked tired. Drained. Her normally olive skin was ghostly under the fluorescent lights. Her right arm was in a sling, and a small black purse was clenched in her left hand.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"I'm here to drive you home," he answered.

Katniss forced a smile at the nurse. "I'm all set now. Thank you." She waited until the nurse returned to the bank of elevators. When she noticed the redhead pretending not to listen, she tilted her head toward the hospital entrance.

He followed her out into the July heat.

"How did you know I was being released today?" she asked.

"Your sister called me." At Katniss's astonished look, he clarified, "She called the bank, actually. Haymitch passed along her number. She was worried about you getting home safely."

"So she contacted _you_?"

"She said there weren't many other options. She didn't think you'd want Rory driving you."

Katniss stiffened. "You shouldn't have come down here. I was just going to take the bus home."

"Well, now you don't have to."

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"Come on." He touched her lower back to guide her toward his car, but she jumped away from him.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," he said. She looked as tense as he felt. "I just…you took a bullet for me. The least I can do is drive you home."

She frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the insinuation that he owed her anything, but he knew she wouldn't say anything. Not out here where someone could overhear them.

"Your braid looks different."

Her left hand shot up to her hair. "It's a French braid. The nurse did it for me."

Despite the different hairstyle and the sling, Katniss looked much more like herself. She wore a pair of dark blue jeans, sneakers, and a simple green t-shirt. This was a Katniss he recognized, a Katniss he knew.

He pointed out his car, and she fell into step beside him.

Once they were inside, he shoved the key into the ignition and turned the air conditioner on full blast.

The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable. He wanted to fill it with words, but suddenly, he didn't know what to say.

"Thanks for coming to get me," she finally said. "But you didn't have to. You don't owe me anything."

"You saved my life."

"I nearly ended it," she snapped. She looked away, out the passenger side window. "I kept waiting for the police to burst into my room. They finally stopped in yesterday to take my statement. They were so…nice. Said I was a hero. Told me I saved your life."

"You did."

"Stop. _Please_. You know I didn't. Why don't they?"

"I told them what I knew," Peeta said. "That I tried to take your place. That they took us both because they thought they could use you to control me. I told them about our first escape attempt and then our second. I told them how you pushed me out of the way when Marvel tried to shoot me."

"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" Katniss asked, exasperation in her voice. "I should be in jail."

"Because you don't deserve it."

Katniss stared at him in wonder. "You don't get to decide that."

"Why didn't _you_ tell the cops the truth?"

"Rory," she said softly. "He came to see me. I wanted to throw him out, but he had a message from Gale for me."

Peeta nodded. "I heard about Gale's statement," Peeta said. "He swears you're innocent."

Peeta had played dumb about Katniss's involvement, not wanting to be the one to give her up. The cops had explained the entire situation, wanting to fill in the blanks for him.

Cato swore Katniss was involved from the start. Gale claimed the opposite. He insisted that they picked that particular bank because he knew he could use Katniss if necessary. He said he had lied to Cato and Marvel about Katniss's knowledge about the plan.

There was no evidence to the contrary except Cato's statement. Katniss had never met Cato and Marvel before the day at the bank. There was nothing to connect them but Gale.

And Marvel had no statement to give. He had died in the back of an ambulance after being thrown through the windshield of his car.

The police had questioned Peeta about Katniss a couple of times. They wanted to know if she had displayed any suspicious behavior or admitted to any wrongdoing. Peeta was upfront about the special treatment she received from Gale, but he was adamant about Katniss's repeated attempts to protect him.

It had been enough.

"He wants me to look after his family. He said it was all his fault, and there was no use in sending us both to jail." She swallowed. He could hear the unshed tears in her voice. "I don't know what he expects me to do. I can barely look after Prim, and—"

She cut herself off, her cheeks flushed red. "Look, I'd rather take the bus home. I'm glad you're okay."

As she reached for the door handle, he blurted out, "I'm not."

She looked back at him.

"I'm not okay," he said. "I'm barely sleeping. I'm barely functioning."

She said nothing.

"This is the first time I've left the house since coming home. It's…terrifying."

"Why did you drive out here then?"

"I wanted to see you."

Silence settled over them as heavy as the heat outside. She fiddled with the fabric of her sling.

"I'm sorry. I really am, Peeta," she finally said. "I hope things get better for you. But I'm not going to be of any help."

Before he could say another word, she was out of the car. He could have easily gone after her, but he didn't have the energy for it. He didn't seem to have the energy for much lately.

He waited almost ten minutes, but he didn't pull out of the parking lot until the bus arrived and Katniss got on.

It was a small comfort. His worry over what could happen to her followed him all the way home.

* * *

A week passed. Peeta called Madge and Delly. He called his father and two older brothers.

He wanted to call Katniss, but he couldn't find the courage.

He didn't leave his house. Sleep arrived in short bursts, interrupted – always – by a new nightmare. At first, he dreamt of his death at the hands of Marvel. He dreamt of beatings and bullet wounds and the slow dragging of a knife across his back.

It changed, however, after he saw Katniss.

Now she was the one bleeding out on the kitchen floor, losing consciousness beneath Cato, shot in the head in the middle of the driveway. Every night, she died a different way, and he couldn't save her.

Every night, he ran deeper into the woods, trying to find his way back to the house, to her, but he couldn't.

On the eighth day, he called the hospital and took care of her medical bills.

On the ninth, she called him.

* * *

They met at a coffee shop a few minutes from Peeta's house, and a brief walk from the nearest bus stop. Peeta would have much preferred having her come to his house, but she had laughed when he'd suggested it.

When they were both seated, Peeta with an ice coffee, Katniss with a scowl, he had to resist the urge to look over his shoulder. The entrance was behind him, so he couldn't see if any suspicious looking people wandered in. He hated that he had these thoughts now. He had to map exits and analyze people and worry worry worry.

"I can't pay it all back now, but I thought we could set up a payment plan," Katniss said, bypassing the usual polite greeting. "What kind of interest rate did you have in mind?"

"What?" Peeta blinked.

"You paid off my medical bills. I want to pay you back."

"That's not…that's not why I did that."

"It doesn't matter _why_ you did it. It was money I owed, and I fully intend on paying it."

"Katniss, you don't—"

"Are you getting some kind of sick thrill out of doing this? Of making me feel this way?"

"What way?" Peeta ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what happened. I'm sorry I wasn't punished. The guilt is eating me alive, and then you go and do something like this…"

Tears streaked down her cheeks, and she hid her face.

"Katniss, I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. I'm trying to thank you."

She smacked the table and several people looked over.

"Stop trying to thank me when I don't deserve it. Please. Let's just set up a payment plan. I can send you a check in the mail each month, and that'll be the end of it."

Gently, he laid a hand over hers. "I don't want your money. I just…wanted to thank you. And maybe talk to you again."

"Why? Why would you want to talk to me?"

"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with you. That _you're_ okay."

She shook her head. "I'm not. I'm really not."

He slid into her side of the booth and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her lack of a reaction was a testament to how far she was inside her own head.

"I dream about it every night," she said quietly. "Of blood and guns and—and you. I can't save you. I never can. I dream about what Cato wanted to do to me. What he could have done. And then I wake up and…" She swallowed. "It's not any better. It's just guilt over what happened. Wondering if Prim is going to find out. If anyone else will."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"I did."

"If I had been in your situation, I would have done the same thing."

She looked up at him. "But you weren't. You never will be."

"Doesn't mean I don't understand why you did what you did."

"It could have been so much worse," she said. "If the cops hadn't stuck around after talking to Marvel, we'd both be dead."

"You can't think like that," he said, even though his mind had circled this line of thinking at least one hundred times since coming home. "We need to focus on what did happen."

He touched her hair, now twisted into its signature braid. "Real or not real, you agreed to everything in order to protect your sister?"

"Real," she said softly.

"You weren't going to take any of the money."

"Real."

"You tried to protect me even though it could have meant danger for your sister or yourself."

"Real," she repeated, wiping her eyes.

"Any questions for me?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. For a moment, he thought she wouldn't say anything, but then she asked, "Why did you come back for me? After you figured it out? You could have gotten away."

"Marvel would have killed you."

"Probably. But you couldn't have known that."

"I couldn't risk it."

"So you still care about me? Even after everything that's happened?"

Gently, he ran his fingers along the back of her head, remembering the place where Marvel hit her with the gun. He touched her chin, tilted it upward so she'd meet his eyes.

"Real," he said, as if were simple, as if he didn't have to think about it. "And what about you? Did you ever really care about me?"

She smiled up at him. "Finally, an easy question."

* * *

They started over.

At first, it was only late night phone calls as both stared at the ceiling, exhausted but desperate to stay awake.

Then, it was a date at Sae's Diner, where they found a booth in the corner in the back, where they could both see the entrance.

After dinner, Peeta invited Katniss to come back to his house, and surprisingly, she agreed. They fell asleep on the couch watching television, and it was the first night he slept the whole way through.

Katniss started staying over a lot more after that.

Eventually, she no longer needed her sling.

Their names fell out of the headlines.

Peeta went back to school.

They both got so good at pretending to be normal that eventually their lives become their own again.

There were still days where Katniss couldn't bear to look at him, where she would spend hours locked in her apartment, shutting him out. Money was a constant issue now that she was helping support Gale's family too.

Peeta helped as much as she allowed.

They clashed, they fought, but they always came back together.

At night, they'd climb into bed, stripping off the stress and anxiety of the day. They would lay entwined until their breathing evened out and they fell asleep.

If Katniss returned to that house in her dreams, if she became lost in the woods or a witness to more violence, Peeta was there to wake her and remind her what was real.

And if a nightmare woke Peeta, all he needed to do was roll over to confirm that Katniss was still in bed beside him.

Falling back asleep was easy after that.


End file.
